


mea culpa

by Hesesols



Series: Eclipse [24]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Altar Sex, Blasphemy, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:21:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28016901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hesesols/pseuds/Hesesols
Summary: Day1ofIIHWE 2020: Ichigo is neither a saint nor a holy man anointed by god. His salvation is tainted and winged— light corrupted. There will be no end to his suffering.
Relationships: Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo
Series: Eclipse [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757437
Comments: 14
Kudos: 32
Collections: International Ichiruki Hentai Fest





	1. Chapter 1

.

.

_Mea culpa,_

_Mea culpa,_

_Mea maxima culpa._

.

The church- devoid of its devotees and clergymen feels foreboding in the dead of the night. Not from the want of light, Ichigo muses as melted wax dribbles down the many rows of candles, granting light and much of sight. The donations from the many rich patrons keep the church alight and afloat but gold and silver- the solid weight of coins only adds to the stillness.

The silence is chilling and his footsteps echo as he makes his way deeper into the sanctum in this place of worship. Past the nave with the empty rows of wooden pews, stained glass windows tell a story of their own— the nativity scene, the holy family- good and humble, standing together; the virgin mother and the earthly father beaming at the infant lying in a manger.

Ichigo stops at the altar and sets foot no further.

The haunted figure of his Lord and Saviour nailed and crucified watches on, hollow eyes all-seeing, silently judging. Ichigo's lips are set in a grim line, ashamed to even cast his eyes upon Him.

He knows where he stands.

He may wear the robes of a clergyman and find himself walking upright on hallowed grounds, but he does not belong. He is a sinner of the worst kind. He sinks to his knees, clutching his rosary, repenting, renouncing his sins before God, beating at his chest as he repeats words of prayers that come as easily as breathing.

Ichigo begs and prays for His guidance, forgiveness, for the strength to yield not to the temptations of the flesh and indulgence. But every night it is a lesson on futility- ad infinitum, ad nauseam.

There is a demon that stalks him in the darkness unseen by others. She hides in the shadows and lingers in the recesses of his mind. She lures him in with her dark eyes and pretty smiles, tempts him with the knowledge of her true name and the idea of her salvation resting within his hands, that he is the only one who is capable of guiding her back into the Light.

The trade she offers is simple. She will allow him to 'reform' her if he can prove to her that he is truly incorruptible. He will give his acquiescence to her presence even during his waking hours and she will reciprocate by gifting him with her true name. She looks so guileless and sincere that the thought of saying 'no' never even occurred to Ichigo.

But there is arrogance in naivety, just as there is foolishness in blind faith. In his eagerness to see the good in all, Ichigo forgets. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Demons are not to be trusted and there is no exception to the rule.

The knowledge of her true name (light- corrupted much like that of the fallen morning star) comes at a heavy price. His ignorance, the belief that the Lord's benevolence touches _all_ , proves to be his downfall.

Before he knows it, she has already sunk her claws into him, poisoned his mind and thoughts. She turns him away from God, offers herself up as a deity far worthier of adoration and worship as she smiles and beckons. Ichigo falls, plunging headfirst into the darkness, mesmerized by her honeyed kisses, her searing touches, the tightness and heat of her core as they twine and writhe as one.

She makes him doubt, sets about ensnaring his senses until she owns him- body and soul. There can be no denial. His sins are marked and burnt onto flesh by her kisses and bites, the bruises she leaves behind as she grips and tugs at him. She knows his body intimately well, knows exactly how to make him moan and scream her name until he is hoarse and spent.

Ichigo is ashamed, always repentant and regretful after the deed, but too weak to deny her advances when she comes onto him under the cover of the night.

But not tonight, he thinks, he has made up his mind and he will sin no more. The demon can't reach him, can't follow him here in these hallowed walls, so strongly imbued with the Lord's presence as He stands guard and watches over him.

For tonight at least, he is safe.

.

"I find it amusing that you think you can run from me by hiding in here."

Amber eyes widen as he turns around in surprise.

He drops his rosary.

She materializes seemingly from thin air, stepping out from the shadows as though she has always been there. At first glance, she looks like an angel. Her skin is so pale that it glows under the moonlight and a tumble of raven dark soft curls cascade over her shoulders. As she steps into the light though, the long, curving horns on her head- her crowning glory; come into view. Bat wings, nearly the height of a grown man and neatly tucked by her sides, trail after her.

Dark eyes- cat-like and luminescent, flicker with wry amusement as she casts her eyes on him clad in his dark priestly robes- noble and forever in penitence, kneeling on the cold stone slabs. Her red lips curve into a knowing smirk, her bare feet strangely noiseless as she saunters up to him in her silken finery, breath-taking and queenly.

The gossamer-like material sparkles under the light, clinging to her like a second skin and hides nothing. It makes for a sorry excuse for a dress but Ichigo is spellbound and struck dumb by the sight, unable to look away. Hanging off her shoulders, the criss-cross strips of cloth are set in hues of pale lavender and lilac, translucent and sheer to the point of transparency. It teases him, infecting him with an itch to reach out and touch, to feel the glide of the material under his fingertips and stake his claim on the flesh beneath it.

The soft swell of her breast is apparent, the darkened tips of her mulberry-tinged nipples barely shielded from his gaze as she bends, dainty fingers lifting his chin up to meet her eyes.

It is pointless to resist. Ichigo chews on his lips, glaring at her in defiance. A demon like her is much stronger than she looks.

"How?"

This is sacred holy ground. She shouldn't even be able to set foot in here.

Her lips twitch, revelling in his confusion as her tongue darts to lick at the shell of his ear. He is weak and despicable, unworthy of the Lord's kindness and mercy, but his longing and carnal wants burns right through him at her touch, making him hard. Dark throaty chuckles from her leave him wanting for more as hot air fans the side of his face.

"I was here long before your god and his men made their way to our shores," she replies simply. The clerical collar is little more than tattered ribbons at her sharp tug. Her fingers dip low, brushing past his Adam's apple and the pulse by the side of his neck before casually undoing the row of buttons at the front of his robes, "and so I shall remain."

His breath hitches. Her words are blasphemous.

"Y-You lie!"

She is all teeth and sharp edges, making her displeasure known and drawing blood as she nips none-too-gently at his exposed throat. At his sharp hiss, her grin is vindictive and more than a little eerie with drops of fresh blood coating her lips.

"Why would I lie for the men who have done nothing but pillage my lands and enslaved my people? Did your god ask me or my people what we wanted before he declared us heathens and made us slaves in our own home?"

He shudders. The fascia he has on seems to be digging into his ribs, making it hard to breathe.

"T-The Lord is g-good and merciful. H-He—"

"Enough!"

Her quiet fury stills his tongue, making him whimper as she grabs a fistful of his hair and tugs. Her anger is palpable and the grip in his hair tight enough to make him wince as she leans forward, pressing their bodies tight as she climbs into his lap. He feels the brush of her hardened nipples against his feverish skin through the sheer fabric. The way she grounds her hips against his arousal; the sweet, _sinful_ friction makes all thoughts of salvation come to a screeching halt.

"I don't want to hear about him. I don't need the mercy of your god," she hisses, "They call me a savage. A savage who refuses to be tamed and that's all I am to them. But I will never forget what I am. They can burn me and cast me in hooves and claws, put me in chains and tear down my temples, but I will endure. I am no demon, Ichigo. I am a goddess, older than your god and his teachings. I will have the last laugh. You—" she presses her lips to his— "You are _mine_."

At the press of her lips against his, Ichigo spirals, plagued by her addictive touches and kisses. They set him ablaze and burn him raw from inside out but what is the pain of death to a moth drawn to the flame?

He is powerless to stop himself from leaning into her touch, from responding to her kisses. He can't be satisfied until he is drowning in the madness that he's brought on himself, made breathless by her. If this is hell, he doesn't think he will ever want to leave.

Rukia smirks, giving more of herself into the kiss as she digs her fingers into the flesh of his back. His hiss of pain is mixed with that of pleasure as her tongue delves into his mouth, pressing and curling against his, coaxing at him to give in to his desires.

The church takes. Its very existence is her bane and its teachings are damning. Why should her Ichigo be made to suffer in the name of this strange religion that makes eunuchs out of whole men? It is inhumane to have him ignore this part of him, this slice of raw sensuality and carnal want that is every bit as human as breathing is.

As his arms come to snake at her waist, pulling her closer, wandering hands sliding further down to knead at her softness, she purrs in satisfaction and rewards him by trailing kisses down the length of his throat. She will teach him yet again what it means to be human, to be made helpless in the face of overwhelming desires only to find salvation in a lover's touch.

Straddling him by the waist, Rukia pushes away the tattered remains of the front of his robes, smiling at the sight of his exposed chest. Ichigo is undeniably beautiful, exalted by the faint glow from candle flames and moonlight. She is hopelessly enraptured to the way his naked body arches and presses against her. His corded muscles toned from hard work are tense with need, his callous fingers gripping her tight as the blunt nails bite into her flesh. Pain means nothing to her, not when Ichigo is burning for more of her and her touch.

He squirms under her, body glistening with sweat. The trail of wispy ginger hair leading to his cock is soft and inviting. His eyes are glassy and burning with want for her. She doesn't even try to hide her smile. There is such a stark contrast to him during the day, pious and careful as he tends to his duty, saintly to a fault. The knowledge that she has ruined him makes her want to coo and sigh. Rukia is suddenly glad that no one has ever seen this side of him. She will gladly claw out the eyes of anyone who dares to covet what is already hers.

Her lover makes a desperate whine when she pulls away from the kiss, making her chuckle before she leans forward to nip at his already swollen lips. She likes to tease- not unkindly of course, eyes dark, canines showing as she tugs experimentally at his nipples, tracing glyphs and symbols along heated skin.

"You are mine, Ichigo. You want me."

"N-No."

He is a terrible liar. They both know that his appetite for her grows by the day. Her very existence is the sweetest of poison and he is in too deep to ever be rid of her.

"We'll see," she smirks as violet eyes light up at the challenge.

Her growls hint at her impatience as she nips at his ear lobes, hands busy at work to tear at the rest of his clothes. Her wants are simple: to have him naked and needy, to have hot skin melded against hers as they lie and twine, but even then she is thwarted.

Much like the nature of the church, his nondescript clothing is cumbersome and restrictive by design. The all black, long-sleeved attire is coarse and stiff, chaffing on bare skin and uncomfortable to say the least. The black sash impedes her, to say nothing of the way the rough scratchy material of the cassock refuses to stretch or bend to her whims.

She curses. Her frustration comes to an ugly head and there is a sudden sound of clothes ripping. It is enough to alarm Ichigo. He stares at the new tear that runs down the side of the black robes as Rukia flashes him a triumphant grin, proud of her handiwork. She pounces, sealing their lips together, roughly pushing away the cassock before he can even find his voice to protest.

Their bodies melt against each other, pulsating with heat and the need for more. Ichigo is nearly as naked as she is. His bulge strains against the linen underwear and he whimpers. Honey brown eyes are cast deep into violet haze, watching as she hums approvingly at his state of undress, sensing her arousal as she squirms on his lap, unable to contain her own excitement.

Held together only by drawstrings, it would have been so easy to untie them, push the pants down and have her way with him. But first— her lips curve, she needs to remind him about their pact. He tried to escape from her by hiding in the church. Her memory is a long and dangerous thing and she does not forgive easily.

Her fingers grip at his length through the linen material of his briefs, loving how he chokes as she strokes him. Ichigo is a helpless whimpering mess as he bucks into her hand, needing to feel her warmth surrounding his weeping cock, desperate to have her put an end to his torture.

"R-Rukia," he whines.

"So you _do_ know my name," she smirks, "Here I was thinking you've forgotten it already and needed be taught a lesson."

Her hands dip low, slipping into his underwear and reaching for him. He groans, throwing his head back at the feel of her palm enveloping him, coating it in his sticky precum as she moves her hand up and down his shaft.

It feels so _good_. Rukia's touch is magical and he finds himself choking on it.

"Are you not mine, Ichigo?"

He is slack-jaw and boneless under her. He moans, mind too far gone and heated to come up with a response. Rukia spares him an amused smirk before she resumes palming, pumping him, cooing at the way he stands stiff and proud. With a shuddering breath, she finally undoes the strings and his cock- veiny, thick and dripping at the tip, springs free.

She is salivating at the thought of tasting him. She wets her lips, sliding herself down until she is eye level with it. She cups at his balls and her pink tongue darts to swirl at the tip, moaning at the salty mixture of sweat and arousal thick on her tongue.

Ichigo's response is instant, gripping her hair tight without further prompting as he thrusts his hips against her, urging her to take him into her mouth. She wilfully ignores the painful tugs, taking her time in pleasuring him by pressing more kisses on his shaft, teasing kitten licks from the base to the tender underside. Violet eyes are sharp and focused on the sight of him, cheeks red and chest heaving, the tenseness in the roll of his shoulders as he tries to swallow his moans.

When she finally takes the tip of the head into her mouth, Ichigo's relief is telling in his loud grunts and the violent jerk of his hips. Moisture lingers by the corners of his eyes as he wraps more of her hair in his grip, urging her to come closer, wanting more of her delicious heat.

There is a faint trail of blood rising in the air as he cuts his fingers by accident on the sharp ridges of her horns. He barely notices it with his lust-addled senses but Rukia wisely magicks away her horns and wings, appearing as human as she can be before him, kneeling between his legs.

With them out of the way, she is free to indulge in her languid exploration of his body. She bobs her head up and down his shaft, sucking noisily with her cheeks hollowing as she takes the full length of him into her warm mouth, gagging slightly from it as the length hits the back of her throat.

Ichigo tears himself away from the sight, desperate to retain some form of control. He bites down on his lips hard enough to taste his own blood, crying out when she releases his sensitive flesh _._ He is aching and still wants more of her, only mildly placated when her hands reach out to stroke him. But then her breaths land hot and heavy on his balls, all tentative licks and gentle suckling and Ichigo groans, squeezing his eyes tight against the onslaught of euphoria.

Rukia has no scruples. She will gladly exploit all of his weaknesses to bring him to his knees and milk him dry. The feel of her hot mouth on his- her incessant sucking, the wet squelch of her pink lips around him, the press of her curling tongue, breathless noises that she makes as she tends to his pleasure makes the shame fade to a dull thought in the background.

He is _so_ close to coming undone.

"P-Please."

She huffs and pouts, pushing her hair out of her eyes as she turns her attention back to his cock. The vibrations from her throat as she hums and coats his sensitive member in a new layer of saliva makes him shiver from pleasure.

Raising himself up by the elbows, he makes the mistake of opening his eyes and looking down. He looks into her eyes as she is on her knees, between his legs, hands and mouth busy at work as they lewdly pump and slurp at him in tandem, like he is food- filling and rich and she has been left starving for days on end.

The sound of her name has never sounded sweeter on his tongue as Ichigo peaks, losing control. Spurts of milky white spent streak into her mouth and Rukia makes a show of swallowing it whole, licking at her lips at the spill, unwilling to let a single drop of it go to waste.

Ichigo slumps backwards, the back of his head hitting the floor with a dull thud as he pants, trying to catch his breath. No man of the cloth should live with the guilt he feels. He has sinned, copulating with a demon, in front of the altar no less. His sins are heavy and he feels stupid for thinking that he can change her. The price for his idiocy is eternal damnation. He is in too deep and his descent- the plunge into the Dark seems imminent.

Should he even try to fight against this?

He chances a glance at Rukia. Half-naked with her smug smirk feral on her lips, everything about her is intoxicating. Even now, she tempts him, sends out an invitation by way of the languid come-hither look she throws him at as she licks at her fingers still coated in his essence.

Ichigo gulps, pointedly avoiding her gaze as he turns, tucking his arousal out of view. He is a fool for ever believing that a creature like her would ever be made to repent for her sins and be brought back into the Light.

He hates her. He hates her for reducing him to this. But more than anything, he hates himself for wanting her despite knowing all that she is. He is her prey, trapped too far and too long underneath the muck to ever conceive the idea of being clean and pure again.

The only salvation he has ever known comes only at her touch.

"Why are you doing this? Why me?"

Rukia shrugs, draws closer and when he doesn't push her away, covers him with her body, entangling their limbs together while mouthing at his still warm skin, pleased at the smattering of love bites she leaves on him. He will never know how he intrigues her or know that he has been in her sights from the very moment he stepped in to put himself between his sneering superior and a hungry child— her people and among some of the last of her devotees,.

"You're interesting. I can sense your thoughts and intentions. You didn't have any lustful thoughts or perverted wants. In the beginning at least, you genuinely wanted to 'help' me. If it's any consolation, I hadn't intended for it to go this far."

He turns, chasing her warmth when her fingers scratch lightly at his scalp, asking in a quiet voice, "What changed?"

She sighs, "You were a challenge. And then when I finally had you… I realized that I wanted more. I couldn't stay away—" she teases, casts a not-so subtle glance at his manhood, her fingers lowering themselves to draw hazy circles on his skin, flicking at his hardened nipples— "You kept me so well-fed and sated. I like the way you give pleasure to me. The way our bodies coil and writhe when we make love… I just can't stop myself from coming back to you."

Colour bleeds to his ears as he groans, covering his eyes in embarrassment.

"Forgive me, Father for I have sinned."

She snorts. Lifetimes ago, men would have killed to be in his position.

"When will you learn that your God is not here?"

Ichigo growls. He is suddenly angry, angry at how she is so dismissive of his vows. He made an oath to his God, to remain chaste and incorruptible. He has failed on both accounts much to his dismay. Yet Rukia delights in making light of his suffering, pouring salt over his wounds. Does it amuse her to see him so wrought with guilt and shame?

He wants to wipe that smirk off her face if it is the last thing he does.

"Shut up!"

He pushes her onto her back, surprising her as he wedges his knee between her legs, keeping them apart. Her eyes flash to him- a silent warning not to cross her but Ichigo doesn't budge. She doesn't make the rules here. They are in the house of God. He won't let her dictate how this night ends.

"Oh—" her eyebrows quirk in mischief. A sudden sliver of moonlight breaks through the clouds, streaming through the stained glass to render her features sharp and lovely. Even with her curved horns and wings gone, she is still utterly otherworldly to him. She is of the earth, sensual and unrepressed in her pursuit of pleasure- hedonism in excess and shamelessly unapologetic of her nature. She is everything that the church frowns upon, everything he has been taught to hate and avoid, yet— "what are you going to do about it then?"

—He just can't seem to stay away.

He slants his lips at hers as he pins her down. He has had enough of being a victim of his wants. For tonight at least, he wants to ruin her, see her gasping and needy under him. If nothing else, it will at least sooth the sting on his pride, to know that she is just as enamoured by him as he is of her.

Rukia is bare underneath the gauzy see-through skirt. Ichigo wastes no time in pushing it up and away, staring transfixed at her puffy lips before he remembers how to breathe. The glistening wetness he finds there makes his cock twitch. She is so slick and ready for him.

He brings a finger reverently to coat themselves in her moist heat and brings them to his lips to taste, moaning at the richness of it as he dives in for more. If sinning is an art, he thinks he may have perfected some parts of it. He has sinned enough to know the taste of Rukia's arousal ripe and sweet on his tongue, how to swirl his tongue in her folds to get the most out of her dripping heat.

Hands spread at her thighs, keeping her legs wide open while he laps at her, pressing the flat of his tongue to lick at her from core to clit. Rukia is every bit as potent as he remembers but this is not enough. He knows that she can give him _so much more._

"Ahh!"

She is cut short by the sudden flick of his tongue against her swollen nub. For all she teases him for his weaknesses, he knows a few of hers just as intimately. Her hips buck but his warm hands are there to pin her down and hold her steady.

Rukia mewls, her voice uncharacteristically high-pitched for once as his tongue delves deep. Satisfaction- primal and heady hits her hard, making her toes curl. She grinds herself against his hot mouth, a hand pushing past the pastel chiffon to tweak at her nipples, the other fisting at the roots of his bright hair, needing more of the friction as he drinks from her.

Undeterred despite the tight clamp of her hand on his hair, Ichigo alternates between lightly sucking at the bundle of nerves and tracing out patterns with the caress of his tongue. When he finally pushes her over the edge, she falls apart screaming for him. Her juices gush, staining his lips.

Her body convulses from the sudden influx of pleasure in her veins, mind hazy, staying her for the moment as she lies under him. She looks up with glassy eyes, pupils blown wide and chest heaving. Ichigo feels a surge of pride, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling like he's proven his point. He may have fallen but he is by no means powerless.

Revenge has never tasted sweeter.

"Y-You—"

Before she can catch her breath and recover, he shifts, pushing the half-torn robes out of the way as he moves to fit his body between her legs and pushes himself into her.

Rukia hisses sharply at the sudden intrusion, claws at his back until they can both smell the blood in the air. But they are too far gone to care. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, gasping at the full length and girth of him slotting deep into her and filling her out.

At the feel of her heat surrounding him, Ichigo can do nothing but groan. She is so tight and snug, a perfect fit for him as her warmth sucks and pulls at him. The need to move and thrust is instinctive and animalistic to the core. He obeys it without hesitation.

He wants to punish her. He wants to hear her repent and beg for his mercy as he stokes the flames of desire within her, pushing her well past the state of coherency. Maybe she would like to have a taste of her own medicine, to be made the receiving end of his merciless teasing and sharp thrusts until she is nothing more than a mewling helpless mess, mindful only of her release.

His grip moves to the back of her knee, throwing her legs over his shoulders and keeps them there as he fucks into her. He draws back only to slam in harder and faster. Every roll of his hips earns him a quiet breathless gasp, a deep, unsettling hunger for more as Rukia mouths at his hot skin, sucking and nipping, wrapping her arms around him, bringing their heated bodies closer.

The sound of their moans reverberates across the empty church. The loud echoes of skin slapping against skin, Rukia's soft curses as she writhes in pleasure under him is obscene and overwhelming.

Lost in the throes of passion, Rukia chases her high ruthlessly, touching herself while meeting him thrust for thrust. Ichigo does not think he has seen a more erotic sight as he brings his hands to cup at her face, fingers swiping at the drool from the corner of her lips while her eyes glaze. He can feel himself shaking, his thrusts getting wilder as Rukia arches her back, offering more of herself.

"I-Ichigo!"

Her hand reaches between them as Ichigo pumps deep into her. With a loud growl, he slaps her hand away, ignoring her cry of outrage to replace them with his own meaty fingers. His eyes gleam predatorily as they drink in the sight of her, wantonly jerking her hips, clawing at him for more at the curl of his fingers, teasing and rubbing at her clit in time to each painful thrust.

Only he can give her the sort of orgasmic pleasure she craves.

"I am _so_ close," she moans, burying her face into his shoulders.

Ichigo winces at the pain by the side of his neck. Rukia's sharp teeth breaks skin and draws blood just as her inner walls tense, squeezing at him. The sudden tightness surprises him, triggering his own release as he tumbles after her. Ecstasy- bone-deep and mind-numbing, grips at him and he chokes, spilling himself into her before giving in to exhaustion as he collapses on top of her.

When he comes to, he is resting his full weight against Rukia. Their sweaty bodies are still coiled about each other. He hides his face in the crook of her shoulders while she runs her fingers through his hair, humming what sounds to him like a lullaby of falling rain. He allows the moment to sink in.

An eternity passes before he manages to pull together what little strength that remains to pick himself up, reluctantly withdrawing from Rukia and her heat. The warm fluids of their combined release trickle out from her slit and he whimpers at the sudden loss of connection.

"Rukia," he whispers to his lover, who turns to regard him with a lazy grin. Her satisfaction shows in how eagerly she twines their cooling bodies together, happy now that they are both spent and sticky.

"I'm here."

The warmth of her body is soothing in the afterglow. She is here holding him, chasing away his unsavoury thoughts, his self-directed hate and turmoil. Dark hair tickles his skin as she nuzzles at him, running her tongue over the wound she made by the side of his neck to sooth it.

"Does it hurt?"

He shakes his head, at a loss for words for the sudden clarity that very nearly strikes him blind.

A creature with ulterior motives would have no reason to stay but Rukia—

She cares for him. It is in the way she cradles his tired body in hers, the way she sings to him and plays with his hair when they are both tired and spent, the way she gives herself to him and lets him lead when she could have just as easily flipped them over and regained control.

Her weakness is an illusion. Rukia would never have let him manhandle her if she didn't want it. Rukia trusts him, lets him dominate her, spreads herself wide and willingly surrenders her control to keep herself underneath him as he fucks into her.

He doesn't hate her. He can never bring himself to do so.

What he feels for her—

"You are mine," she coos, planting kisses on whatever patches of skin she finds, "Forever and ever. Don't you forget that. We made a pact, Ichigo. Your god doesn't want a sinner. But you don't need him. Stay with me instead. You will always have a place by my side."

Rukia senses a change in him as he turns his brown eyes to her. There is something different in the cast of his eyes, flicking to the sight of her naked breasts before trailing back to her swollen lips. She senses the end of his turmoil, burning bridges of what was once torn between morals and desires. He presses his lips to her, drawing her body close and Rukia returns the hug fiercely, enough for his skin to bruise in pretty shades of blue and black when morning comes.

"Yours," Ichigo breathes, the noose on his neck tightens but he feels nothing of the pain as he looks into her eyes.

The Lord's love runs like tepid water, flowing and eternal, soothing all wounds. It is humbling and selfless, a force for good that pushes His followers to proclaim aloud their joy and rapture, to aspire to mould themselves to His standards, to ascend to a higher nature of being because of Him. His love is written and bound in the holy book for all to see.

Rukia's love on the other hand, burns. Her love is feral, too raw to be put into words or spoken about. Hers is the kind that comes after dark, leaving bruises too shameful to show, rings of teeth on puckered skin that he prays will never garner suspicion from the others. She is possessive, merciless in her teasing and delights in finding new ways to make him fall.

But it doesn't mean she loves him any less.

She is a wild creature, a heathen goddess forsaken by the church and His Holiness but Ichigo finds himself paying tribute to her nonetheless, offering himself up willingly for her pleasure and enjoyment night after night. She only has eyes for him as she brands him with her kisses and the knowledge of her true name to make sure that he will know no other master than her.

Ichigo lets her.

This thing between them—

It is inevitable.

He can't fight this, doesn't want to either and now he is finally at peace with himself. He wants to be by her side, to drape himself over her and sing her praises of worship from the valley between her breasts, to drink and lap at her core until he is rewarded with slick juices sweeter than wine running down his lips, to worship her with his body until the end of days.

Come Judgment Day, his immortal soul will be bound to burn for all eternity in Hell. But if Rukia is already there, waiting for him, he supposes that he wouldn't mind it terribly.

No one, be it a god or something holier, will ever come between them ever again.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: worship (this love)
> 
> Yes… sweet missionary after the blowjob because… well he's a priest what did you expect xD


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This lovely art is made by the amazing sodesoda19 for the fic and deserves its own page to let y'all bask in the loveliness. Rukia is so soft and pwetty in her lavender dress.


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